The sands, which have worn
Away the esteem of mercy
Grain by grain, like the knife
Pressed against flesh
Who unmask the hideous face of amity

Stand fast to the day of hanging
Of sickly peace and all her swains
Gilt with a handsome noose
Let the throat of man be nobly adorned

The hour demands a plague
Upon your miserable existence
A pax upon ye whoresons of gaia
A blade in her cunt engenders
The belated abortion of man
All mercy devoured in hatred's maw
All mercy devoured! Weak pity consumed!

The hour demands pure devastation
A ceremony of kings
A fist in the septic eye of creation
To speak of mercy would blight
And infect this cloven tongue
To utter pity would blacken
The very mouth
Hymnist of so many words
Of exalted torture
Hymnist of mockery in
The ear of laggard mankind

By the sands which have pity drowned
Each grain a thrall
In the kingdom of murder

Onto the ravening pyre cast
Not even your blood will quench
The hungry flames